


Crowley? Wear A Cardigan? N e v e r

by clockworkfall



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 08:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19422256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkfall/pseuds/clockworkfall
Summary: So Crowley may or may not wear cardigans instead of his usual blazer or jacket - exclusively at home. And Aziraphale may or may not have noticed - unbeknownst to Crowley.





	Crowley? Wear A Cardigan? N e v e r

Aziraphale hadn’t meant to stumble upon Crowley while he was sleeping, but he had just happened to be stopping by and it had slipped his mind that Crowley on occasion would take midday naps - usually after taking care of the plants nowadays, the whole apocalypse affair was still catching up with his poor demon, and he really did exert himself with those plants.  
The angel was used to seeing Crowley in a blazer or jacket or something, he liked to switch things up much more than Aziraphale did, but what had surprised him the most about finding the demon asleep was the cardigan he was wearing. It was nothing special of course, but it was very different, at least according to Aziraphale.   
Not that he couldn’t get used to it.  
He quite liked it, actually.  
But he didn’t want to be rude, and so he crept back the way he came, careful not to wake Crowley, and tucking the information away for the future.

The angel hadn’t seen the demon wear another cardigan since that particular day, but the anniversary of their meeting was coming up and with all that had happened recently, Aziraphale couldn’t help but feeling that it deserved some commemoration. And the commemoration he had in mind - well, he just wanted to give Crowley something that meant something.  
And he knew clothes meant something to Crowley the way that food meant something to him. His demon refused to be seen if he was wearing anything less than stunning - at least that’s how the angel saw him. So when the idea had struck him, he knew it would be perfect.  
It had taken him a while to pick up crocheting, which turned out to be much harder than the sleight of hand tricks he had done. And of course he knew he could just miracle it up, but it wouldn’t be the same. But eventually he had gotten the hang of it, and just in time too.  
The cardigan was a light cream, made of the softest yarn Aziraphale had been able to get his hands on. And it definitely wasn’t made with measurements Aziraphale had gotten from the tailor he knew Crowley saw on occasion, nor was ever so slightly magicked into being black so the demon would at least try it on before seeing its true colour. It also had some marvellous pockets, if Aziraphale did say so himself, and he did.  
The following afternoon, the angel stood outside Crowley’s place, the box tucked behind his back as the demon opened the door.  
“Angel? What’re you doing here?” Crowley’s brows scrunched up as he leaned against the doorframe.  
“Well, I-” Aziraphale was cut off by Crowley’s phone ringing inside - which Crowley had definitely not done to make inviting the angel into his house easier.  
“Damn phone ringing - Come in while I take this,” Crowley said, guiding Aziraphale inside, where the phone stopped ringing the moment they entered that room. “Ach, they’ll call again later if it matters,” Crowley muttered, decidedly not keeping up appearances. “So what are you here for?”  
Aziraphale almost forgot why he had come from the soft smile Crowley gave him.  
“Ah, well, it’s the anniversary of the day we met, and I figured I should get you a little something,” He pulled the box from behind his back, “to commemorate all the years we’ve been through together.” He smiled brightly as he presented the gift to Crowley. “So I made you something.”  
Crowley raised a brow as he wordlessly took the box, taking care as he opened it. He froze as he got to the cardigan after layers of tissue paper. He opened his mouth to say something, only for his angel to cut him off.  
“Well go on, I know it’s not your typical style, but wouldn’t you try it on?”  
Crowley could never say no to Aziraphale.  
So he quietly slipped off his blazer, picking up the cardigan and giving the angel a curious look before putting it on. And as he looked in a mirror that hadn’t always been there, the black slowly faded into a light cream that matched Aziraphale’s coat.  
“I know it’s not typically your colour, but I didn’t think it would do any harm to-”  
“I love it.” Crowley’s voice broke just a touch. No one had ever given him anything before, much less made something for him. He could feel the love in the cardigan - not something he was used to noticing. Not that anything with Aziraphale went unnoticed, which might’ve explained it if Crowley had cared enough to think it over before wrapping his angel in a tight embrace.  
Before Aziraphale could react, Crowley had pulled away and was pulling something out of his desk drawer and pressing it into the angel’s hands.  
He adjusted his glasses as he spoke, “I uhm. I got you something, too.”  
Aziraphale looked down at the small box in his hands, slowly opening it to reveal a silver ring in the shape of a snake. He took it out of the box and gently slipped it on his finger.  
It fit perfectly.  
The angel smiled a smile reserved for Crowley, and his demon’s heart melted just a little bit more, just like it did every time his angel looked at him like that.


End file.
